we're just boxes of souvenirs
by mirrored.waves
Summary: Felicity is the very brains of the operation. Without her, Diggle and himself are nothing more than some muscle and strength swinging at an elusive target. She's become somewhat of a constant. Oneshot!


Okay, so, hello! It's been a really long time since i've posted anything on here and it was for a totally different fandom. But i've become so obsessed with this show over the past few months, I just had to write something. There are so many great stories and authors for this show and this couple in particular that I could never compete, but here's my attempt. I am really nervous about this and hope it turned out all right. I really adore these characters separately and together all the same, so I really hope to have done them justice here. Let me know! Thank you so much for clicking on this, too!

oliver queen & felicity smoak

_"Maybe you were just too nice to me. Maybe it took me way too long to leave. Maybe once we felt the same."_

song inspiration: panic cord - gabrielle aplin

* * *

In many ways, Oliver has become reliant on having Felicity around. She's become somewhat of a constant. A point, a center of focus for when the tides grow rough and his ability to navigate through the waters is no longer enough to bring him home.

All those months ago, in the back of her too small car, bleeding and in pain, he had revealed his secret world to this woman, consequently forcing her into a new life. One of danger and revenge and justice all the same. And though hesitant about his motives early on, there is now an ease about her behind those computer screens. An ease which fills in with pride and appreciation for her work, for her belief in him. She is the very brains of the operation. Without her, Diggle and himself are nothing more than some muscle and strength swinging at an elusive target.

Slowly, and unbeknownst to him, Oliver has come to need her. To search her out in the middle of the night, desperate for her knowledge and skills in tracking down suspects, while also desiring a comfort from, companionship as well.

It was after a long week of frustration and an innocent death which should not have happened that it occurred for the first time.

Nearly an hour before two in the morning, long after both Diggle and Felicity had gone home for the night, hidden away in the darkness of the Arrow cave, Oliver picks up his phone and finds her number. Pacing across the floor, running his fingers over the cold metal of the tables, he contemplates how necessary it is that he calls her now. He's already disturbed so much of her life, Oliver would hate to disturb her sleep, too.

But in his moment of weakness and doubt, feeling lonely and unsure, he dials the number and her sleepy voice on the opposite side of the line nearly makes him grin.

"Oliver?" she muses.

For a moment, he listens to her breath. He imagines her in his then. Her long, curly, blonde hair pulled up into a ponytail to sleep, perhaps wearing a set of pajamas, falling into a slumber with a movie and cup of tea at her side. It has become more frequent that he ponders these kinds of details of her life. Small details that form the woman he trusts, misses at times, and considers a vital friend.

He breathes, too. Heavy and long, thinking of what to say next, he settles for the silence instead. Leaning against one of the desks, he thinks for too long about Tommy and his death, the common disappointment he brings his family, Laurel's and his time on the island. As if connected to his train of thought, a pain emerges from one of the scars on his abdomen and steals the air from his lungs.

A strange cough emerges from her throat then, breaking him from his trance. And, almost as if being their with him and resting her reassuring hand on his shoulder, she speaks, "Oliver, that girl…it's not your fault. You did everything you could."

Listening to her words several times over in his head, he finds himself confused over her ultimate belief in him.

Losing his balance and struggling for words, he stumbles over a few, "Felicity, I can't…"

Oliver moves to turn on a light in the cave. The brightness hurts his eyes at first but begins to awaken his senses not longer after. His fingers feel stiff around the phone as it rests against his ear, holding onto it - her - like a life line.

"Okay, tell you what. I'm gonna stay on the phone with you until morning if that's what you need." As if thinking she's joking, Oliver attempts to force laughter from the bottom of his throat, prompting her to reply. "What would you like for me to babble about first?"

The next day, neither Oliver or Felicity mention the phone call.

+

On a Wednesday evening, he gives both Diggle and Felicity the night off.

While John had mentioned in passing his plan to spend the night in the gym, Felicity surprised them both in revealing her friends from college were in town to visit. Her excitement was evident at the prospect of spending the later hours of her night doing something other than researching locations and hacking government systems.

Unfortunately, though, Oliver spends his night trapped inside his head, bothered by nightmares each time he closes his eyes. The bed beneath him is firm and hard to get comfortable on, leaving his back sore and aching while the phone clutched in the grasp of his sweaty palm shakes. He struggles to calm the rapidly beating heart pounding in his chest and the racing thoughts from clouding his vision. His attempts to convince himself that it would selfish of him to interrupt her night with such foolish concerns.

But in a club across the city, filled with far too many people and blasting music vibrating around her eyes, Felicity's phone rings, vibrating against the covered skin of her thigh. Concerned and surprised, she excuses herself from the table where herself and a few friends had been seated, escaping through the crowds of people, finding her way outside.

The night air is chilly, causing Felicity's body to shiver, turning against the wind as it blows. The bright lights emulating from multiple skyscrapers along the skyline of Starling City reflect off of the puddle of waters left in the streets from the rain that fell that afternoon.

In some ways, she finds herself bothered by her inherent desire to save this man. It is all just too cliche for her liking. She's not sure as to when her attachment to being around him took control. Felicity had never truly been strong with her feelings towards men and Oliver Queen is no different. She has not been in very many relationships in her life but it becomes no surprise to here that her every feeling is now consumed by his presence and his opinion of her. She desires his respect and hopes to be worthy of it someday.

Only a few days before, he had called her and talked to her - though that is not entirely the truth as she mostly did the talking while he listened, his deep breathing growls the only sign that he was even still there at all. His voice had sounded so broken and left her ashamed to admit to a fleeting moment of hope in terms of where their friendship-slash-potential-relationship could be headed.

Felicity shouldn't spend her nights hoping he will one day see her as she sees him. He is a hero and a survivor. Meanwhile, she is nothing more than a silly IT girl who rambles on about random topics in the midst of nervous feelings. She's not even that pretty really. Not like Laurel is anyway. Laurel Lance is really pretty and Oliver is always going to love her. Felicity never really had a chance in the grand scheme of things.

She hates how she's been roped in by his charm. But, because Oliver is the man she has some foolish crush on she clears her throat and answers his call.

"Hello?"

"Felicity?"

She pauses, waiting a moment, breathes in the night air while taping her foot against the steps of the building. "Yeah, it's me." She dances up and down the steps for a while before he speaks, biting her lips as she goes.

When he does, he sounds remorseful. "Look, if it's a bad time…"

"Oliver, it's okay…really."

It's not - okay, that is - but she's not going to tell him that.

+

The next night, Oliver dials her number, listens to the phone ring several times, the sound echoing in his ears for minutes on end before Felicity's voicemail message switches on.

He tries to fight the sinking feeling of disappointment which settles in his stomach. And, in that moment, settled in the Queen Mansion for the night, Oliver can no longer distinguish where the lines and boundaries cross in his relationship with Felicity Smoak. They stretch and exist over moments of time all blending together now, flashes of glances of her and her hair, glasses, all of it. Waves of her rush over him and it is all just too much to bear.

He tries not to notice her awkward movements the next day each time he comes near.

+

For nearly a week after that, Felicity seems to avoid Oliver at all costs. She circles around him as if it is a choreographed dance and he is not exactly sure how to feel about all of it.

Each time he reaches out for her, she pulls away. He practically watches her squirm as a result.

But not on Saturday.

On Saturday, she is logging off of her computer just past eight o'clock when he approaches. Instead of turning away, she continues to pack up her purse. After that, she straps on her heels and fixes her lipstick, ignoring him all the way.

"Felicity," he begins, lowering his voice significantly to only a whisper. "Can I talk to you?"

She shakes her head and he can tell that her gaze is directed everywhere other than his face. Felicity tries to remain calm and collected, though Oliver can see right through her. And the slightest chance that she is angry with him tears him apart. "I can't. I have a date tonight, Oliver."

Oliver's not sure what to say. He thinks of a few ways to reply though none of the options play out well in his head. Jealously So, instead, he watches her motions seize, watching him intensely. Her eyebrows pull together as her top lip twitches just a bit. She's wearing a blue dress and is pulling on her jacket next, shoving her hands into the pockets quickly. He doesn't want to burden her any longer. He never wished to be the weight around her neck, holding her down when the everything in the world is available to her. So, he lets her go. "Okay. That's okay. I'll just see you tomorrow, then."

And he walks away, turning on his heel, left breathless with the realization that Felicity can no longer be a friend. Too much has happened. He needs her too much for platonic conversation to ever be enough. He craves more than that now. He imagines himself and Felicity in new ways, different and impossible to ignore. Possibly having a life together outside of the hood and having to keep secrets from the ones they love.

But before he takes proceeds any further up the steps, she calls out to him to stop.

And he does. Because she is the anchor that brings him back to shore.

Oliver turns around and allows the smallest smile to creep across his face. The cave is dark around them and the silence is daunting, the only sounds being that of his tapping fingers against the railing and her shaky breaths from across the room. Her mouth hangs open a bit while her eyes are opened widely.

Her slender fingers - fingernails painted in a bright color - catch a piece a hair between them, pushing it back behind her ear before words escape her finally, cutting the tension quickly, "I'm kind of nervous, I guess. I haven't been out in a while, since, you know, forever. And I really want him to like me, but I'm kind of weird and if he tries to kiss me or something, I don't know, maybe I'm jumping ahead here, but, if I he wanted to kiss me, I don't think I would know what to do." Once she is finished talking, Felicity lowers her eyelids, almost appearing ashamed of her confession before slowly lowering herself into the chair behind her, grasping the top for support.

Watching her every motion, Oliver tilts his head to the right, blinks once, and speaks only after he is sure he has her attention. "If it were me, I would kiss you." He can hear her gasp from nearly thirty feet away and in realizing that she is too startled to reply, Oliver decides to use this moment to put all his cards on the table while he's got the chance. "You'll know what to do."

And without a second thought or a second glance, he turns again, holding the railing as he moves up the steps.

+

Later that night, Oliver is standing alone in Verdant. Behind the bar, he is cleaning glasses and restocking the alcohol after a particularly hectic night of work.

He's wearing a suit - though his tie has been loosened - to keep up appearances, but his muscles and mind are tired all the same. He exhales heavily against the bar, placing his elbows against the wood before resting his face into his palms, rubbing them over his face in exhaustion.

Even after five years on the island, Oliver had still been convinced Laurel was the woman he would always be with upon his return. She was going to be the woman he married, had children with. The woman he grew old with. But, of course, there were a several blaring issues with that particular plan. The first being that he had indirectly been responsible for her sister's death. Another being that Oliver would never be able to tell her he really is and they would never work with those kinds of secrets kept.

But Felicity does. She knows everything, she knows all about him.

He pulled her into this life and she handled it all with grace. He feels a sense of pride in calling her a member of his team. Though no one may ever know of her role in this operation, how she assisted in saving lives and their city, Oliver knows and will always greatly respect her bravery and courage in standing by his side, contributing largely to their cause. He could only hope she knows that much.

He can't help but wonder how he could have so foolish in ignoring his feelings for so damn long. For months, Felicity had been staring him right in the face and he continuously brushed past her presence as he was blinding by the danger and past complications. And finally, he's come to his senses and has made her feel used all at once.

In the distance, Oliver can only faintly recognize the sound of his phone ringing. In his scrambling to find its location, he drops a few abandoned glasses. Upon picking it up, he could almost feel his heart seize to beat in his chest at the sight of her name. No longer than a second passes before he is answering the call.

A beat passes, then two and the only distinguishable sound on either side is that of raindrops falling around her. Oliver hadn't even realized it started raining at all.

"Did you mean it? What you said?" she questions, pushing through a breath.

Without requiring much more of an explanation, Oliver answers. "Yes." he nods. "Of course I did."

A moment of tension elapses. Oliver can hear the raindrops tapping against the roof.

She swallows. "Okay."

"Okay."

And the only thing he can hear next is a beep or two, signaling that the phone call has ended. She has hung up. Oliver's not sure what he is supposed to do next.  
Suddenly, the front door opens and she is walking through it. Her footsteps are quiet at first as she closes the door behind her and slowly closes the distance between them. One of her hands in her pockets while the other is holding her heels. Oliver stands behind the bar all the while, watching her step closer. Feeling his throat start to burn, he not so patiently anticipates her next move.

"I'm sorry I was mad at you." she begins, finally reaching the bar, resting her heels on top of it. Oliver leans in, reaching for her hand. "I just…I didn't want to need you so much. You kept calling me and I was dedicating so much time to try and _fix_ you. I didn't want to be the girl that needed a guy." she's nearly chuckling then, clearly amused by the entire situation. "But I do. and you're the guy. You're _my _guy." Her shoulders are raised by the end of her statement, making contact with her chin as a tear escapes her eyes and faint smile plays at her lips.

Oliver touches her cheek and wipes the lone tear with the pad of his thumb. In turn, she leans into his touch, closing her eyes slowly. Then, in no time at all, his lips are meeting hers, while his fingers are running through her slightly damp hair as it hangs down over her shoulders. The smell of her draws him in closely as the world vanishes around them, content in each other's embrace.

Pulling a while only when absolutely required of them, Felicity smirks leaving him curious as to what is so funny. "You were right. I _did_ know what to do."

"Yeah, you did." he assures her with a wink causing a blush to emerge on her cheeks.

+

Though Diggle is normally quite the detective, it takes him much longer to catch on than either one of them originally expected. Felicity assumed it would be only just a few days before John revealed his knowledge while Oliver went with just over a week or two.

It took him nearly three instead.

Diggle watched as Oliver and Felicity kissed quickly just around the corner, in a hidden hallway by the elevators of Queen Consolidated. He is rubbing her arm and squeezing her shoulder as she laughs, wiping lipstick from off of his cheek. In realizing that he must had interrupted an intimate moment, Diggle backed away just until they separated on their own.

Only a few seconds later, Oliver came around the corner, showing surprise in seeing his "bodyguard" standing there with an odd smile plastered on his face.

"Good morning, Mr. Queen." Diggle greeted, pushing Oliver in the direction of the elevator as they were late to a meeting across town.

Wearing a confused expression, Oliver hesitantly stood in the elevator next to Diggle, waiting for the doors to close behind them. But just before they did, a hand reached out to kept them open, allowing them to jump inside as well. Someone with blonde hair and a second job as the hood's main computer intelligence.

Felicity stares at them both strangely before taking a place between the two men.

"What's with that strange look on your face, Dig?" Oliver questioned, turning towards the slightly taller man, arms crossed over his chest.

Diggle laughed for a moment before replying. "Oh, it's nothing. Just wondering what took you two so long."

In shock, Felicity's hand rushed towards her as they smacked against her mouth, though not doing much to hide her embarrassing blush.

Not long after, Oliver leaned forward into her ear, whispering, "You owe me twenty bucks."

Still embarrassed and taken aback by his comment, Felicity spins around quickly and playfully slaps him against his chest, prompting a laugh from her boyfriend.

Diggle, watching all the while from the corner, grins at the scene. "Oh, this is going to be fun." he concludes.

_end. _


End file.
